Soon Parted
by sopmire
Summary: "Don't worry Junior, I'll return it 12-fold"   For all he's not present, Senior's actions leave a terrible wake. 1st time writer, looong time reader; please be kind...
1. Chapter 1

Chapter 1

A virulent stomach flu had diminished the ambient hum of activity at NCIS on most every floor. The stench of hand sanitizer _parfum du jour_ for those still present. The relative quiet was unnoticed at the moment by one Tony DiNozzo, standing behind his desk completely absorbed by the cell phone in his hands.

A loud whine had started in his ears as he read the words, becoming louder as he slowly sank into his seat. Everything except his hands and the phone in them was brightening to glaring intensity. The air seemed thinner, and why could he hear his pulse all the sudden?

The words just weren't making sense. "Just landed. Don't worry Junior, I'll return your investment 12 fold. With you not listening to reason, I had to step up. Maybe someday you'll be a parent and understand. I'll be back soon."

There seemed to be a thousand crickets adding to the whine now, and his fingers were tingly. When did this suit become so hot? The dry cleaning bill was already ridiculous… maybe as the weather turned warm this spring it was time to consider cooler layering options. Perhaps it was time to try linen suits, but there was the wrinkling problem…Federal Agents can't show up creased for heaven's sake.

_Dad didn't…no, he wouldn't._ Tony was not even conscious of putting the phone down or accessing his online banking… just of the numbers not making sense. The old trust fund account that should say $38 million said $15. Even his personal accounts said only $5 each. Wait, these tiny numbers are just the minimum holding amount to keep the accounts open. Latest transaction: 09:10 this morning, from the joint account that still had Dad's name on it; withdrawal amount $38,042,897.00. _But that's impossible, I was at work, and Dad was flying out …this morning. What the hell...? Why is my heartbeat shaking my whole body?_

Somewhere from the white zone he finally heard the repeated queries, "Tony?"

With eyebrows raising politely, he mask slid easily into place...despite the damned whining crickets and sweat trickling down his back, "Yes, Ziva?"

"Bad news?"

"Oh…," he said airily, "Only if you give your phone number to your drycleaners. Gibbs catches me dealing with spam on my phone during work hours I'm in trouble." Hopefully the smile he felt stretching across his face was appropriate.

"Is that different from any other time, DiNozzo?" as Gibbs walked in, stopping and looking back at a very pale SFA. "DiNozzo? You alright?"

Shooting up out of his chair, "Oh, of course Boss. Fine. I'm fine. As always. Just a little…ahh…off. Maybe..." nodding his head judiciously. Were his ears really red? They felt red. _I'm a freaking __victim__ standing right here…me…an identity theft victim, a fraud victim, a theft victim... my own Dad ripped me off._ How could his face feel cold while his ears were hot?

McGee chimed in, looking both concerned and wary, "Boss, maybe he's coming down with the flu. He was talking to Shirley in accounting yesterday, and you heard what she did in the break room this morning?"

Turning gladly to McGee, Tony said, "Are you afraid of my potential vomit, Probie? Or deeply concerned for my well being?"

McGee, having noticed Tony's usual deflection methods after the curious shocky physical reaction, was actually concerned at the moment. So naturally he had to translate this to brother-speak, "Did I mention I was in the break room when it happened? I can't tell you how seriously I don't want to see or smell that twice today."

Tony realized his coping mechanism was fully engaged when he found himself enjoying talking about vomit instead of thinking about the contents of his phone, bank accounts...or the probable actions of his Father.

"DiNozzo, head out. It's only a 24hr bug, best to get home before it kicks in," Gibbs said, walking to his desk.

"Boss?" a startled Tony said. _No, no, no...I'll have to think about it if I'm home._

"We're just doing paperwork, and you're only missing a few hours. Get," Gibbs said slightly louder as DiNozzo appeared to need prompting.

Tony gathered his gear and said good night much too quietly, and with no further protests. As Ziva and McGee exchanged looks across their desks, Gibbs watched Tony walk to the elevator, concern growing.

Driving home well before rush hour for once, trying to think about the lovely spring weather and absolutely nothing else, Tony realized he could stop by the grocery store to take advantage of the time off. Except absolutely nothing sounded good to eat, and the thought of seeing food sounded nauseating. And how the hell would he pay for it? He suddenly realized with a horrible lurch there was only $10 cash on him and his debit card was now useless. And his automatic payments through his bank...those had to be suspended immediately before he bounced checks. And Internal Affairs might think this was a huge blackmail payment if he didn't explain proactively. Shaking his head, he realized coping wasn't enough at the moment, he also had to deal with the fallout asap. In comparison, having the stomach flu sounded wildly appealing.


	2. Chapter 2

**AN: My cup overflows with gratitude for all my readers/reviewers. Thank you! **  
><strong>It will quickly become apparent I am not a lawyer or any kind of expert on legal matters, apologies if some of you are and my mistakes drive you nuts.<strong>

Chapter 2

Reaching home, he started with the easy parts, suspending his automatic-payments and scheduling an appointment with IA for first thing in the morning. Then Tony grimly decided to call the only FBI agent he respected, Agent Fornell, for a recommendation in their Major Fraud Department. Getting her name and number, Tony then floundered, wondering why on earth he needed to call. He's a Federal Agent for heaven's sake, and he knows exactly how this happened. How many unsuspecting little old ladies did he interview when he was a cop? How many con man victims has he sympathized with, while sighing internally? "He seemed like such a nice man...I can't believe he did this...He was so convincing...I had no idea." The victims of a con man were usually unwilling participants in the crime, giving things away they should have held close, not being suspicious enough.

_I know better, I knew better...and yet here I am, a victim to my own father. How could I have been so stupid...he was watching me those times I accessed my account in front of him...and last night's visit...such a damn fool._

Making the call before he could become mired in his own depression and humiliation, he confirmed with Agent Simmons what he already knew. Despite confirming the transfer did not originate from Tony's smart phone, home or work computers, there was not enough evidence that Tony hadn't transferred the money himself from the Adams Hotel business center. Or possibly given his father the login information intentionally to allow the transfer. The final withdrawal to cashier's check was technically legal, being from an account with his father's name still on it. Tony had one remote hope, that perhaps his Father was being coerced. But Agent Simmons reviewed the bank security camera tapes, from both interior and parking lot...no signs of duress. Airport security footage confirmed, all appearances indicated a very happy and confident man boarded his flight to King Khalid International Airport, Riyadh, Saudi Arabia at 10:52am. Simmons also confirmed what Tony couldn't even imagine doing...that his only legal option was to sue his Father for the money in Civil Court.

Well, that's that then, Tony thought, only vaguely listening to the end of the call. Thanking Agent Simmons and asking for a copy of her report and any updates to go to both himself and Internal Affairs, NCIS.

_Why Dad? What the fuck were you thinking…_but then, he could see it all from his Father's point of view. He probably just thought of it as knowing better than his idiot son, borrowing the money to cash in on a sure thing. For all that his Dad was a mystery to him, Tony could see his motivation far too well.

If this wasn't a damn good time for scotch, he didn't know when it would be...

* * *

><p>Gibbs had stopped by the store for Gatorade and ginger ale on the way over to Tony's apartment that night, although his gut was telling him something else was in the wind. Answering the door, Tony gave a quiet and lost sounding "Hey Boss" as he waved Gibbs in. Accepting the bottles and putting them in the refrigerator, he said, "Thanks Boss, probably going to need these when the scotch wears off."<p>

Staring with growing concern and no small amount of curiosity, Gibbs said, "You're not sick, but you're not well either DiNozzo. What's going on?"

Sitting on the couch, Tony didn't know where to start. He bemusedly realized maybe the scotch wasn't helping much. Looking at the man closer to him than any other, Tony's eyes widened as he suddenly realized yet another terrible aspect to this he hadn't considered... God, would it just stop getting worse sometime soon?

"Boss, I...you... you tried so hard, way beyond any possible expectation to give me and my Dad a chance. Christ, having two of us in your house at once for Thanksgiving? Think you deserve a special medal for that one Boss. You bent over backwards, and I know I've already thanked you, but I really do appreciate the effort, you know? And for it to turn out like this... I tried too, really... at least I think I did? Maybe there was something else I should have... or shouldn't have done?" he trailed off, lost in the blackness inside his own head.

"Tony, tell me what the Hell you're not saying. Did something happen to your Dad?"

"Oh no…" he said with a short chuckle. "No, I imagine he's quite well right now. In Saudi Arabia...with my money...and the end of our relationship as Father and Son."


	3. Chapter 3

**A/N: Thanks again to all who read and/or review, you're making me practically giddy! And so many helpful suggestions, really making this first-timer feel welcome and supported. Thanks again guys!**

Chapter 3

As Tony recounted the day's events for Gibbs, he also confessed what a sap he'd been, and how it started months ago. How his Dad had been suggesting a hotel/casino investment for two months that was a sure thing and would make a ridiculous amount of money for them both. How in the past month the suggestions turned to pressure, causing a rift between them as Tony continued to express a total lack of interest in the scheme. "I was happy with how I'd secured the old trust fund money Gibbs. Jeez, I wonder if something like this is why he finally signed the money over to me in the first place. Anyway, I'd transferred it all, except for $1000 emergency money in a joint account for my Dad, into a timed account and arranged it to pay it's own taxes. It was just there for emergencies for me or anyone on the team. I knew better than to start spending it... I mean, we both know how I'd get, and I'd totally become useless to you as an agent. That means a hell of a lot more to me than a Ferrari, you know that."

"Besides, I had a really good conversation with McGee during a stakeout awhile back, kind of eye-opening, about my complete lack of a retirement account. Tim brought up a good point about how I shouldn't just _plan_ on dying on the job..."

"Tony..." Gibbs winced as he felt his heart skip, flashing back to the many times that could have easily happened already.

"I know Boss, I know." Tony weakly threw his hands up. "But really, if it wasn't for you I'd have been dead years ago Boss, so it wasn't so far-fetched a notion. Why not have more money for my shoes and suits now instead of saving for a retirement I didn't expect to ever see, you know? Anyway, when I finally got that trust fund and it was a heck of a nest egg for retirement, right? Problem solved, no burden to the state here. So I was pretty happy with things as they were, had no intention of changing things up just to suit my Dad."

"Yeah, that sounds right," Gibbs agreed.

"Well, it got pretty heavy in a conversation a few weeks ago. Dad was drunk and laying it on thick about how stupid I always had been in financial matters. How he wouldn't expect more from a jock or a cop, but that's exactly why I should listen to him for once and do what he said. How he never would have signed this money over to me if he knew I'd just sit on it, this kind of money was meant to be used, invested, how that was the American way, etc. etc. Honestly, by this point I'd tuned him out, but I was pissed and some of the things he said rubbed me entirely the wrong way. Not to mention, I was about to implode not pointing out how his _advanced financial skills_ had obviously not paid off for him too well, for crying out loud."

"I tried to just make an absolute statement to him that I would _never_ invest that money...but it came out sounding personal, like I'd never invest it _with him_. Insulted his pride probably. I didn't mean to actually insult him Gibbs, really, but maybe it was a Freudian slip type thing. I felt pretty insulted by then... I just don't know anymore."

"Tony, don't let this slide into being your fault in any way. You didn't goad him into stealing your money, no matter what you said. You got that?" Gibbs tried to stress.

Shaking his head with a bitter smile, Tony replied, "Ahh, but Boss I freaking handed it to him didn't I? I may never have had my identity stolen the same way as McGee, but there were two times in the past several months I think Dad was close enough to see my fingers typing in my login info. Probably couldn't make out the security answers too well. But hey, the first question was what was my first school, which oddly enough he would know being my Dad and all. Kind of surprising he bothered to remember it. Private little school on Long Island. Hideous starched collars… and that plaid tie! What were they thinking?"

Attempting to shake off the alcohol fumes, he continued, "The second time he was close enough to watch my fingers he'd actually asked for a tour of my online banking...to compare it to his own to determine if his just wasn't user friendly, or if his age was the real problem. Seemed reasonable, we all learn some things on computers by watching others, right? Besides, do you know how many times my Dad has asked me to show him something I'm good at, to help him with a problem Gibbs? None. I was happy to help him out for God's sake."

The mix of emotions and scotch flying through his blood stream suddenly had Tony giggling, "And I haven't even told you the punch line yet Boss! It's great, a real kick in the damn pants! Hah! Last night, night before the transfer? He actually shows up to my apartment - first time ever for that. I remember being glad Gloria had cleaned the day before so the place looked decent. Of course I don't think Dad even looked around. He was all smooth, saying that our argument was his fault, he understood I was a grown man and my personal finances weren't any of his business. He didn't want this to be another schism between us like when I went to college, and god knows I didn't either... was kinda worried about that as hot as the argument had gotten."

"He asked if we could let bygones be bygones. I was relieved, happy...so stupidly happy to agree. He said he'd found alternative financing for his deal, and when he came back wealthy as Midas, he wanted to take me out to dinner - anywhere I chose. My favorite restaurant, anywhere, be it a Waffle House in Peoria or 5 star restaurant in Paris. I name it and we'd go."

Shaking his finger vaguely in Gibb's direction, Tony continued, "I was thinking pretty rationally this was probably never going to happen, having heard my Dad's promises before. But I've tried pretty hard with my Dad in recent years, and so have you Boss, and honestly...it also sounded really great. Maybe this was where all the awkwardness trying to make it work starts paying off, you know? Me and him, someplace I thought was special? Would be great I thought. So even if it was 80/20 unlikely to happen, I went ahead and told him. You can't win if you don't play, right? It would be nice to visit Bertucci's in Philly again...pretty average Italian food really, but the people are great, and the place kept me sane when I was undercover for so long. Love that place."

His fond smile faded, and Tony was quiet and hoarse now.

"Guess what my last security question was?"


	4. Chapter 4

**A/N: Thanks again enormously to all my readers and reviewers - you guys are awesome, and stoking my fire for additional writing!**

Chapter 4

Gibbs wished he was stunned, wished this was inconceivable. But, as he squeezed the back of Tony's neck in consolation, it really just made him sad… and angry, never far behind. Maybe he never should have tried to rope in the elder DiNozzo, prompt him to be the decent Father he'd never been before. You can shove a horse in the water, but he ain't gonna take a bath. Apparently the man couldn't even manage being a decent damn human being.

Family, always complicated. But not usually such a damn cluster as this.

Bringing Tony some ginger ale over ice, Gibbs sat on the coffee table in front of Tony and said, "So you're sure you don't want to sue him? You'd have a pretty decent case. Could be he's done this before to others, or might yet."

Tony sighed in relief on finishing the soda and handed over the empty glass, "No, that's one of the reasons I called Simmons. Bunch of bankruptcy and tax issues aside, she said no previous incidences or complaints against him. But now mine's on file in case something happens in the future. And no, I don't want to see him in court, don't want to drag this out any worse than it already is."

Tony fell silent, the hum of the refrigerator strangely loud.

Then he whispered, "Don't want to see him again at all really. Ever. I'm done Boss. Done trying."

Slowly loosing his battle with exhaustion and alcohol, he added, "I know more than most it's just money, didn't even feel like it was mine really. Except for my personal $40,000-odd, that smarts. The bulk of it was Mom's. Only dipped into it twice, both times for Dad, thought she'd like that. That second time, for his birthday party? I thought it would help set him up Boss, get him rubbing elbows with his contacts again, new deals, get him back on his feet. Knew she'd want that."

"She couldn't have had big plans for me as a kid, never really mentioned what she hoped I'd become someday…but I'm sure she didn't expect me to be a complete _dumbass_. To just _lose_ her gift within four years of _getting_ it." He shook his head slightly and sighed.

Gibbs was glad no one ever expected him speak, because finding the right words right now was beyond him. Generally, he found platitudes completely useless, and he couldn't even imagine Hallmark having a card for this situation. Visualizing bloodying the elder DiNozzo, possibly down a flight of concrete stairs, was slightly satisfying at the moment, but Tony obviously wasn't ready to hear that yet.

Silence again, then an anguished Tony continued, "I know my Mom… well, even if she wasn't the best Mom ever, I know she loved me. And I let her down Boss." His eyes were burning for some reason as drifted to sleep.

Shaking his head, so were Gibbs', as painful moments from his own youth came back to him. As he sat, rubbing a hand over his face, watching Tony sink deeper into sleep, he attempted to review the situation like a case. Unfortunately, not every agent in the FBI was an idiot, and he had to agree with their assessment for a criminal trial. With an irritating sense of futility, he wished Tony wasn't taking this as a personal failure so much. But knowing his SFA so well, there was no other way he would take it. Covering Tony with a blanket after making him as comfortable as possible, Gibbs turned down the lights and set the alarm clock on Tony's phone.

As he set a glass of water and aspirin on the coffee table, Gibbs wished he could fix the whole ugly situation as easily as a hangover.


	5. Chapter 5

**A/N: Huge thanks again to all who are reading my first story attempt, and all reviews and PMs. You guys are fantastic.**  
><strong>Also, apologies to any Buckeyes fans, I wrote this before I even knew they were actually in the final four! <strong>

Chapter 5

As Ducky and Palmer entered Abby's lab, joining the rest of Tony's extended family, he took a deep breath and decided to make this as much like a sit rep as possible. Speaking in clipped words, he started, "Thanks for gathering like this guys, won't be long, just wanted to let you know about a situation without repeating myself. Already spoke to IA and the FBI, and… running out of steam talking about it at all really. Don't like thinking it, much less saying it. But you guys should know, so... ah..." and then he floundered. His eyes naturally drifted to Gibbs, his touchstone in so many different ways.

"Like a band-aid DiNozzo," Gibbs said briefly.

"Right. I'm broke. My Dad ripped me off. Cleaned me out. Fleeced me. Happened yesterday morning..." and the words again halted while the exclamations and questions started.

"No way, that _bastard_... I could probably re-route it back to your account Tony?"

"Did Tony's Father do something to his clothes?"

"Tonyyyy! That asshole, Oh my God!"

"So sorry dear boy"

"Tony, is he in jail now?"

Deciding Palmer's question was at least something he could deal with, Tony said, "Oh no, no he's probably in a great hotel in Saudi Arabia right now. No, jail time isn't going to be involved because it was identity theft with a side order of fraud. I deeply unknowingly and unwillingly helped him straight to the money. Practically coughed it up onto a silver platter for him."

He snorted, "Yeah, bright, huh?" The tight-lipped smile and shaking head sent several of his friends' gazes to the floor, unsure how to console him without causing pain.

"Tony? The FBI? Did he tie you to something..." Tim asked.

"Nah, not quite that bad. Just pretended to be me, transferred heaps o' money to an account with his name on it, and then quite legally took that money far far away."

"The 'heaps' making it Federal Crime?" Palmer asked in confusion. "How much does 'heaps' have to be?"

"Well, it's the combo platter really; identity theft, $38 million and change," as Tony valiantly tried to ignore the widening eyes and raised eyebrows, "and me being a high security-clearance federal agent." He gave them a second to digest that, before continuing thoughtfully, "You know, I guess he only took the 'change', which was my personal little $40,000, to pay the early withdrawal fee and loss of this quarter's interest on the rest. Well... anyway, I just decided to skip straight to FBI's finest in Major Fraud, according to our friendly fibbie Fornell, to confirm what any of us here who've investigated this kind of thing knows. Real hard to prosecute successfully, and highly unlikely in this case. And no, I'm not dragging this into Civil Court, so that's that.

Abby's gasped out a sudden question, "Oh, do you have enough money to live on right now Tony? Do you need food or gas or anything? I could stop by with dinners?"

Tony hadn't thought this could possibly be more embarrassing, or that there were even remnants of his pride to damage. His own eyes widening, "Utterly, completely, totally fine Abby. I'll have another paycheck next week. I've got a credit card I never use if I get desperate, got plenty of stuff I can sell. Who really needs a tv that big? I've got a perfectly good computer monitor I'll keep instead. And did you know my old suits can bring $600 or so in a consignment shop? I mean they're already altered, and god knows _what_ I've knelt in at work... anyway, yes, no problems there Abbs. Ah, I guess thanks for asking though?" Tony sighed and closed his eyes briefly.

"That leads me to the two things I wanted to ask you guys." Tony tried to speed up as he got back on track, seeing light at the end of this tunnel... this most painful campfire in history.

"One is to ask you for your patience for a little while. I'm not dealing with this as well... as I wish I was. Ah, it's just not...this isn't...I'm..." he grimaced. "Well. There's obviously the speaking in complete sentences problem. And I imagine there may be some snippiness, some cranky behavior to your no doubt well intentioned comments or concern."

"Of course Anthony, you didn't even have to ask. What else can we help you with?"

Asking for patience was so much easier than asking for help. But he felt the anger nipping at his heels, even overriding the embarrassment. Tony's voice was clipped and hard, "Ah, I've never in my life asked for a chaperone. Who on earth would? But if my Dad should show up..." he held up stiff hands briefly, "he claimed he'd be returning the money twelve-fold. Yeah. So there's a really remote chance he'll show up some day. I don't give a rat's ass at this point if there's a big fat check for me in his pocket, there's every chance in the world my temper might get the better of me."

"I try, really do try not to get seriously angry, about anything. Water off a duck's back is the only way to survive sometimes, right? But this...not sure I could manage that this time. So I'd ask if one of you is around, just... stay... to help me make sure not to do something stupid." He turned his head to the side and laughed, "Well, I already did the stupid part. But I mean something that gets me thrown in jail, you know? If I damage him, slightly or permanently, he's still in my life forever. Which is the last thing I want anymore."

"So," he took a deep breath, relaxing his shoulders, "if you could help out with that, I'd really appreciate it."

Hearing quick concerned agreements and nodding heads, Tony felt weariness washing over him. "So that's it then. Thanks again for letting me just say this once."

He frowned slightly seeing Abby's arms opening wide and the imminent hug approaching. "Tony, I'm so sorry!" as she shuffled over.

Tony cut her off abruptly, but as gently as possible. Grabbing her shoulders and sliding his hands down her arms to grip her hands, "No Abby - I don't, I _can't_ accept this even from you Abbs. He did a really bad thing, but I did the really idiotic thing first." His smile looked more like a grimace.

Gibbs chimed in quietly, stepping closer, "You're being too hard on yourself DiNozzo."

"Ah Boss, got to differ with you there. You can't reward fools for proving old sayings, can you? We'd never learn otherwise."

Ziva's soft confusion ended in realization. "Oh, a fool and his money are soon parted - I know that one. Tony, you can't…" she trailed off as she shook her head. It was apparent he did… and she didn't know what to say. Consoling Tony could be like hugging a porcupine sometimes, if you didn't take just the right angle... you both ended up covered in blood. They were far too alike in this.

"I could take a trip Tony? _Visit_ your Father...convince him to do the right thing, yes?"

A small genuine smile appeared while he shook his head. Squeezing Abby's hands one more time, Tony said, "No… no point. I'm done with him. Just done entirely." Kissing Abby's cheek, "Thanks everybody for your intent, but I just can't… ok?"

Among the quiet murmurs; "Sure Tony." "Of course." "Stiff upper lip my friend, whatever you need lad." Abby appeared to be thinking hard, frustrated at not being able to do _something_: interrupted empathy heading towards critical mass. And then the light bulb appeared, "Tony! How did the Buckeyes do in the Final Four?"

Completely bewildered by the subject change, Tony took a deep and strangely refreshing breath. Being used to going along with Abby's thought process, and in this case wildly happy to start talking about something else... even if it _was_ his Alma Mater's ignominious defeat in the college basketball championship, Tony said, "Well, they lost as a matter of fact. Damned good run right up to the end, but their best point guard had to sit out the game and it just threw them off all night."

Abby, often a paradox, seemed wildly overjoyed while sounding deeply sympathetic as she held his face in her hands, "I'm so sorry the Buckeyes lost Tony!" And she finally succeeded in wrapping him in her tightest hug. The others, relieved to have some way to express their support closed in and hugged or gripped the parts Abby left available.

Penniless he may be, but Tony found his vision blurring with what couldn't possibly be tears, as he realized how lucky he was. How grateful to be a member of this odd little family.

**_A/N: Just an epilog left, and working on sequel story asap I promise. So many requests for bloodshed upon a certain elder DiNozzo! ;)_**


	6. Chapter 6

Epilogue

Aiming his pointed glare into the eyes of all present over Tony's bowed head, Gibbs mouthed "Stay here." Proud of his entire team when they subtly affirmed his instruction, and deeply appreciating Ziva's tiny wicked smile, Gibbs decided Tony's breathing had leveled out enough.

"DiNozzo, mourn your team on your own time. Go pull Dorneget and re-interview PO Anderson's neighbor again. No new info, we'll put it back in cold cases for another year."

Disentangling himself, and clearing his throat, Tony was never happier to be sent out on a semi-pointless task, "On it Boss!"

Facing Tony, but raising an eyebrow at McGee, "Make sure. He has. His gun."

Tim gulped, eyes widening. Using the spine seven years on this team had given him however, he managed to add weakly, "And a pen, be sure he has his own pen."

Already out Abby's door, Tony called back, "Pen and gun for the pubescent Probie, check."

Waiting a moment to be sure DiNozzo was on his way, Gibbs turned to the expectant team, "We follow DiNozzo's rules in spirit; we can't give him justice, he doesn't want vengeance...but we sure as _hell_ find a way to teach Senior the meaning of payback. Agreed?"

Four variations of "Thank god, let's get that bastard," and Abby's low purr "Oh yess!" was all he needed to hear.

-fin-

**A/N: Thanks again everyone for reading, for all the support, great reviews, conversations and lots of good advice! And I'm getting on the sequel asap Boss!**


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